


skinny love

by shuantics



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Butts, Drinking, Falling In Love, Humor, It just happened, M/M, butts everywhere, i literally have no idea on how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-08 14:36:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8848834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuantics/pseuds/shuantics
Summary: Hansol's New Years Resolutions:1) Stop staring at Boo Seungkwan's ass2) Stop Boo Seungkwan, period
In other words, Hansol has a problem, and it takes the form of a perfectly shaped, curved butt attached to the likes of the undeniably attractive Boo Seungkwan.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Mainly because of [this](http://pledis17.com/post/150910547273/peek-a-boo-editing-allowed-with-credit) and [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SGTydc7KR8I)  
> Goddamn Boo Seungkwan.

In respect of it appearing in even his dreams, to the fact he keeps a mental tally on which jeans make it look the best, Hansol has come to the conclusion that he has a problem. A problem called Boo Seungkwan and his round, astounding, perfect ass.

Hansol never really was a butt person before this. In his early days of dating (both boys and girls), he didn't find the asset incredibly important in the aspect of a relationship. In fact, his first boyfriend had probably the lamest ass known to man - unfirm, flat, unshapely - but Hansol didn't care much: "You are not your ass, and your ass is not you."

Now, however, it's different. Since meeting Seungkwan, on the first day of freshers week where he was glowing and fresh from high school, his eyes were only trained only on the voluminous, beautiful behind attached.

"Boo Seungkwan," he smiled, pretty and wide, jutting his hand out for Hansol to shake. Hansol tried not to look shocked. _Christ,_ he had never seen an ass like that. Tight in his blue jeans, his tucked in shirt hiding nothing from view.

"Uhーhey," he grabbed Seungkwan's hand, hoping it hadn't become clammy, "hi Boo Seungkwan, IーI'm Hansol. Choi. Choi Hansol.”

"Hansol." Seungkwan nodded like he was testing the name out. "Hansol." (Hansol tried to ignore the idea, the visions of examples of him saying it in many, many different ways.) Bouncing on his toes, he seemed oblivious towards the sweat that slowly started breaking out over Hansol's forehead. "Your roommate's name is Chan, right?"

Hansol snapped his eyes up from Seungkwan's hips. "Uh, yuーyeah."

He beamed. "He's my cousin!"

Hansol swallowed, drinking in the image of Seungkwan's cute face to distract him - round, chubby cheeks, big, doey eyes, and pretty, curved lips. "Oh, really?" The temptation to let his eyes travel down and take another look at his butt was painfully strong, but he did his best to resist it.

"Yeah! Well, third cousin once removed on my dad's side, but we practically grew up together." He dragged his eyes over Hansol's figure. "So," he drawls, "I guess we'll be seeing more of each other then?"

Hansol nodded, maybe a bit more eagerly than he should've. "Yeah...yeah, definitely. IーI'll look forward to it.

Hansol's ashamed of how much he stared at Seungkwan's behind as he walked away (but nonetheless, he could have sworn the latter was swaying his hips as he stalked away, so he guessed he had some form of an excuse).

They study different subjects, but Hansol did see more of Seungkwan, plenty more, and it was annoying how much he yearned for those sightings more and more after every time they met.

Once, Hansol saw too much of Seungkwan.

Parties in college were, of course, a given. What budding young adult would pass up the opportunity to get wasted, lose their minds and their worries over a few shots and plenty of beers? Hansol was one of them, until his second year when he was hesitatingly dragged to a party by Chan.

"I just really don't want to go, Chan," Hansol argued, "simple as that."

Chan sighed. "Seungkwan will be there."

Hansol bit his tongue. _Fuck._ By now, Chan had figured out (he wasn't an idiot) that Hansol had some weird infatuation with his cousin, but he was yet to figure out which part Hansol was so intrigued with. Nonetheless, he enjoyed using it to his advantage and, more often than not, it worked.

"I'll only stay for an hour," Hansol admits, hugging himself tighter as he follows Chan through the bustling living room of some stranger's house towards the kitchen in search of some refreshment.

"Yeah, cool," Chan rushes, pushing a red cup into Hansol's hands. "Drink up, buddy."

Hansol inspects the light yellow liquid. Not quite resembling piss, but more a heavily diluted cloudy lemonade (though, through the taste, one could mistake it for piss).

The next thing Hansol remembers is Seungkwan, Seungkwan's hands, and Seungkwan ass.

Seungkwan - the cute face flushed red as he giggled and chatted to his heart's content, mostly gibberish, but Hansol listened anyway (don't ask him what he was saying, God forbid, could he remember).

Seungkwan's hands - those that ran everywhere over Hansol's body as he pressed his back against the wall, grabbing and reeling Hansol in by his collar as his lips stuck messily on his.

Seungkwan's ass - the one that Hansol forcefully groped, not by his own doing, but by Seungkwan's for he held Hansol's hands and pulled them around his waist, pushing them firmly against his behind.

The shocking act alone was sure enough to start sobering Hansol up, Seungkwan still in his drunken mind as he nibbled at Hansol's neck, spilling his drink on his shoulder. Sobered slightly, but rather quickly alcohol touches his lips once more, and the next thing he remembers is Seungkwan, underneath him, whispering his name in those ways he once such imagined, before everything else remains black.

Seungkwan didn’t remember either, for the next morning, he arrived at his cousin's room, pounding headache and questions about the previous night's activities. (Of course, Hansol tells him nothing happened, having realized that's a better way out than confronting his feelings or how _good_ Seungkwan's ass felt against his hands, amongst other things.)

So to reiterate, Hansol’s resolutions for the new year are as follows:

  1. Stop staring at Boo Seungkwan’s ass
  2. Stop Boo Seungkwan, period



Somewhere between those lines, Hansol also wishes to stop biting his nails, fall out of love with Seungkwan and stop lying as much, but he figures he’s got all year to work on them.

In the face of his final few months as a university student, Hansol realizes how hard a task 1 and 2 will be. It's like when you make a resolution to diet or to stop drinking, the task is easy until you’re sitting face to face with a giant chocolate cake or a keg of beer, then you lose your mind and crave for it. In Hansol’s case, Seungkwan is both his giant chocolate cake and his keg of beer - so, so sweet and so, so addicting.

And it’s not just his behind anymore - through time (maybe more quick than he’ll care to admit) Hansol’s truly fallen for Seungkwan. The flippant, flamboyant Seungkwan that’ll giggle at his flirting attempts disguised as bad jokes, the Seungkwan that has a voice like heaven and the wit of a finely aged wine. His smile incites shivers, his pouts invite warmth, Hansol is so wrapped up in Seungkwan as a being, sometimes he forgets the very asset that drew his attention in the first place and it shocks him, sending him through every prior feeling over and over again. You can fall in love twice, it must be true - if not, what on earth is happening to Hansol every time he sees Seungkwan? (Hansol wishes there was an explanation buried deep in his literature textbook, but alas, every time he looks, he’s met with no reprise.)

“I can’t believe we’ll be graduating in a month,” Seungkwan chuckles, his back against the seat of the bleachers as he stares up at the dimming light sky.

"Yeah, it's mad," Hansol comments, sitting upright with his legs crossed. He flinches when Seungkwan abruptly does the same. 

"We've come a long way," he grins and Hansol's head spins at the pretty, toothy picture.

"Yeah, we have," he replies. 

"I have an idea," Seungkwan says, matching Hansol's position and facing him. "Let's play truth or dare."

Hansol frowns. "That's a bit random. Why?"

Seungkwan shrugs. "Just because," he rushes. "I'll go first, I truth you."

"Hold on," Hansol stammers, "I didn't say I want to play, yet."

"Too late. Tell me..." Seungkwan leans forward, instinctively, Hansol leans back, "...have you ever lied straight to my face?"

Thoughts zoom through Hansol's head at the speed of light. _He's talking about something, what's he talking about? Lord, send me a sign..._

Of course he has, many a times: 

"Do you like anyone, Hansol?"

"No."

Lie - he likes him.

"Do these jeans make my butt look too big?"

"No."

Lie - they did, but it was great.

"Did we have sex last night?"

"No."

Lie - they did.

Hansol swallows. "Wーwhy?"

"Just..." Seungkwan's fingers tap his chin thoughtfully, "curious."

Hansol takes a deep breath, swallowing his pride and nodding.

Seungkwan jumps up. "It was the sex thing wasn't it!"

Hansol's heart stops, and he scrambles to collect his thoughts. "Wーwh... you _knew?_ "

"Of course I _knew,_ " Seungkwan asserts, "it was a bit obvious when I woke up and you were sleeping next to me."

"ButーBut why did you ask then?" Hansol fuses. "And why didn't you _say_ anything?" Now he was just confused - Seungkwan knew, and knew Hansol lied to him, but he decides only _two years later_ to say something? Who does that? Who leads a person into a false sense of security, making them believe that their secret, their feelings are in check and keeps it from them?

It took at least a few days after that for him to realize, all that, all those questions he asked, all that annoyance he felt because of Seungkwan, was merely the exact same that he did too.

Seungkwan's giddy at their graduation, as Hansol expects him to be. He hangs off the arms of Hansol and Chan, beaming the whole celebration, practically skipping after receiving his degree as he greets his family.

"Mama," he intones, "this is Hansol. I've told you about him, right?"

"Plenty," Mrs. Boo smiles, shaking Hansol's trembling hand. "Nice to meet you."

"You too," he smiles, turning to his own parents. "Mom, dad, this is Seungkwan, my f...friend."

Seungkwan grins as he shakes Mr. and Mrs. Choi's hands, even reaching to shake Sophia's. "Weird, Hansol's never mentioned you."

(Hansol tries to ignore the odd look his mother flashes between Seungkwan and him as her son reddens slightly as Seungkwan wraps his arms around him casually).

At the after-party, Seungkwan sits with Hansol on the bench outside the family-friendly bar, his head resting on the latter's shoulder as he hums, his mind cloudy with more alcohol than it probably should be.

"Hansolie," he whines, Hansol almost shivering at the name.

"Yeah?" 

"What's next for you?"

Hansol hesitates, thinking. He was wandering when Seungkwan was going to ask this. "Probably going to move back to New York with my parents for a while," he admits, because there was no point dressing it up to be anything that it's not, not even knowing why he'd want to anyway. He guesses maybe it's something to do with him never wanting to leave Seungkwan's side, but brushes it off and continues. "Find a part-time, find somewhere to apply with my lit degree, start building cash and move out eventually." He looks down at Seungkwan, looking so beautiful with his eyes slightly closed and cheeks flushed, lips looking so, so pink and so, so kissable. "You?"

Seungkwan hmphs, shrugging and chuckling in a tipsy mess. "Don't know." He picks his head up and looks at Hansol, raising his stiff arms (both of them dressed in tight fitting suits) and flops them over Hansol's shoulders. 

Hansol's breath catches as Seungkwan leans forward, bumping their foreheads together and breathing softly. 

"You have your shit sorted out," Seungkwan pouts, his lips so close to touching Hansol's, "I'm a bit jealous."

"I'mーI'm sure you'll figure itー"

Seungkwan, rather rudely, silences Hansol by jutting forward, pressing his soft lips to his in the most gentle, timid kiss he's ever felt (and after the first time kissing Seungkwan, he hasn't felt many). Hansol would like to say that if Seungkwan was drunk enough to kiss him in an alcoholic trance, it wouldn't _logically_ be this soft and controlled, thus, bringing him to the conclusion that Seungkwan is fully in control and aware, and is kissing him on his own will. Which, he will gladly take as a win and an invitation to kiss back.

Hansol loses track of how long they sit there, apprehensive hands holding one another, mouth slowly moving in a rhythm that is only natural. Hansol's heart thuds, his cheeks hottening, which he'll blame on the midsummer evening, but he's pretty sure is a cause of Seungkwan, and how happy he is to, in some way have him, finally, even if for only one kiss.

He misses the contact the moment Seungkwan pulls away, chest rising and falling as he collects his breath.

"You're an idiot," he mumbles, and Hansol's frowns.

"Why?" 

Seungkwan shrugs. "You just are," he adds, before slowly, leaning back in.

 

After summer, Hansol get's a job as an apprentice for the editor of a sports magazine in New York. He's on his way up, and, granted, still lives with his parents, but hopes that'll soon change with a solid income of two, now Seungkwan's by his side (he realizes himself silly, for assuming that Seungkwan, clingy, possessive, will ever let him leave his side).

Looking back at that Resolution list, Hansol thinks:

He doesn't bite his nails anymore, only when he's nervous.

Falling out of love with Seungkwan was never going to happen, let's be real.

Lying, only when necessary...

"Babe," Seungkwan asks, twisting his head to examine his outfit of tight jeans and simple dress shirt, "do these jeans make my butt look too big?"

Hansol looks up from his interview notes and quirks an eyebrow, twisting his face and shaking his head. "Nah."

Stop staring at Boo Seungkwan's ass...

"Okay," Seungkwan breathes, "wish me luck." He crosses his fingers as Hansol stands up from his desk, walking around and pressing a soft kiss to Seungkwan cheek.

"Good luck."

Seungkwan leaves, hips casually swaying as he does, with Hansol's eyes trained on the voluminous, round butt, biting his lip at how extra plump it looked today. If his shining personality and astounding qualifications didn't get him the job, that _surely_ would.

Stop staring at Boo Seungkwan's ass...

...Never.

 


End file.
